The Wolf, the Imp, and the Swordsman
by Lady-Valiant
Summary: The one-shot idea that wouldn't leave: While searching for Midna a sword, Link has an interesting encounter with the local swordsman.


**Disclaimer: Because it's fun to state the obvious. I do not own LoZ in any way, shape, or form and never will.**

The sense of panic filled the night air so thickly that it was nearly suffocating. Panicked, villagers ran around, searching with torches and anything that could serve as a weapon for their children. They wouldn't find them, though. They were long gone, and monsters of the darkest night roamed the normally peaceful forests surrounding Ordon Village. Throughout the chaos, a lone wolf crouched in a patch of tall grass, his—for the wolf was certainly male—blue eyes shifted quickly across the village. "Hurry up!" a voice hissed from his shadow. "I don't want to be here all night!"

He growled, wishing for a moment that he hadn't been changed into an animal, so he could give that insistent little imp a piece of his mind. Finally, it seemed most of the villagers had moved to places where they wouldn't see him. The wolf crept from his hiding place and stealthily sneaked past houses until he came to the one he was searching for, the house that belong to Rusl.

Rusl was a swordsman in the village, and briefly the wolf felt a wave of sadness. They'd been very close when they were both human, but becoming a wolf tended to put a strain on one's human relationships. He ignored the overwhelmingly depressive thoughts and pushed them to the back of his mind. He tried, anyway. As he nudged open the door with his muzzle and crept inside, however, his thoughts were still preoccupied. Maybe that was why he didn't realize he and the imp weren't alone in the house until it was too late.

One moment, he was moving freely through the house, and in the next there was a rope tight around his muzzle, keeping his jaws firmly closed. Had he still been human, he probably would've swore. The imp hiding in his shadow didn't swear, but she did say some very colorful things that would've humbled any sailor. He felt a tug on his muzzle and realized he'd just been tethered to the doorknob of the closed door. The room was dimly lit from a single torch, but the wolf had no problem recognizing the person leaning against the wall even in the dim light.

It was stunning the amount of blood on Rusl's clothes, but the man still seemed formidable, even as he skillfully flipped a sword in his hand—the very sword the wolf was searching for, of course. "Quit gawking and _do _something!" the imp snarled softly.

_Like what? _He wondered.

"You're a wolf! Attack him!" she ordered, her voice becoming softer as Rusl approached, cautiously.

_I can't!_

There was an irritated tug at his tail, but the wolf still didn't move. He stood as if frozen as the swordsman approached him. "You idiot, he's going to kill you!"

Rusl looked suspicious, and the wolf thought for a moment he'd heard the imp. Finally, with a muffled sigh, the wolf sat back and stared up at the swordsman who was about to drive a sword through his heart. Even if he'd accepted that he was about to die, he didn't want to see it happen. He didn't want to see a sword coming at him or the blood after he was stabbed. The wolf turned his head away, and he heard a disgusted whisper from the imp, "You're giving up?"

_Yes._

He felt the edge of the sword press against his chest, and he cringed, tensing his muscles. A moment passed, and he realized he was still breathing. He was still alive, his heart still beating. Then, a finger gently touched his ear, and the wolf jolted, turning his head. "Are you someone's pet?" the man asked.

_Pet…?_

"I've never seen a wild animal act like that," he muttered. "It's odd. So odd."

Rusl raised his hand, the one that wasn't clenched around the hilt of a sword, and the wolf bowed his head to show he meant no ill will. Rusl's hand nudged his ear again, and the swordsman actually knelt beside him. "Wolves are wild, proud, and dangerous animals," he stated, "But…you didn't take the village children, did you?"

The wolf shook his head, and Rusl laughed. "Goddesses, I've found a wolf that speaks Hylian!"

He chuckled again, before growing sober once more. "A wolf that speaks Hylian," he repeated. "I was wounded while fighting monsters; I was searching for the children. I'd say I'm worried for them, but that would be stating the obvious, wouldn't it?"

The wolf turned its gaze to the ground, slumping slightly. He'd been there when they were taken. He should've done something. "I'm most worried about my son Colin. He's…very timid. My wife Uli is hysterical, and it's just…very, very bleak."

The wolf flattened its ears and let out a very soft whimper. The human in him wanted to be reassuring. He wanted to tell Rusl everything would be all right. The children would be safe because they just _had _to be. The wolf even knew someone who could stop the monsters! He wanted so badly to tell him… "It's not just children, though," the man continued, looking distantly at his hands. "No, young men are disappearing, too."

_No! How long until the entire village disappears? _The wolf wondered.

The wolf looked at the ground, and if he'd been human he probably would've cried. There was a flicker of movement as his shadow rolled its eyes. "Well, one young man I am very concerned about; I raised him after his parents died from a horrible bout of the plague years ago…"

The wolf's head jerked up. Many people died in the plague. A few village children were made orphans, but only one of them could be considered a young man. If Rusl noticed the wolf's sudden interest, he chose not to comment. "Yes, he's a brave one. My son really looks up to him as an older brother, and…well, he's like a second son to me. I love him; I'd die for him if I had to, just as I'd die to protect my son, my wife, and my unborn daughter."

_He means…me, _the wolf thought, a knot twisting in his chest.

"What are you here for?" Rusl asked, interrupting his own stream of thoughts.

The wolf thought a moment before raising a paw and planting it on the flat of the sword. "Ah, yes, it's the blade I forged for the royal family. I don't see why a wolf would need it."

The wolf let his tail drop, but then Rusl rubbed a hand gently across the wolf's head. "The young man I told you about? His name is Link."

The wolf mentally flinched at the sound of his own name. "These are his, aren't they?"

Confused, the wolf glanced up and saw Rusl indicate to his ears. _My ears…?_

Realization struck. Even as a wolf, he still had the earrings! Eagerly, he nodded. Rusl eyed him curiously. "You have his eyes. My wife Uli once told Link he had eyes of a wolf. I didn't understand what she meant, but…it makes sense now."

Rusl raised the sword with one hand, holding the wolf's muzzle with the other, and carefully cut through the rope binding the animal's jaws together. "I don't know much about magic," the man said, as he sheathed the sword, "But I know it's magic if I see a wolf carrying a shield and asking for a sword. I know it's magic if I see a wolf that looks remarkably like someone I know. You may not be Link, but you have something to do with him. I can see that."

Rusl leaned over the wolf and positioned the sword on its back. "Just keep them safe," he whispered.

The wolf barked once in reply, and a faint smile passed over the old warrior's face. "May Farore bless you with courage and speed."

The wolf ran from the house and before long, his paws touched damp grass. The imp was surprisingly silent as they finally reached the cover of the forests. As much as he'd wished for the imp to be silent, the quietness was beginning to grate against his nerves. Finally, the imp rose from his shadow and appeared, her arms crossed. Idly, she looked at her fingers, and the wolf mentally decided she did that _just _to make him anxious.

Then, in a voice that somehow expressed both approval and disapproval in equal measures, she said, "So…my pigheaded dog is named Link. What kind of ridiculous name is that? Gods, your parents must've hated you! Now come on, let's see how great these weapons are."

The wolf mentally decided that he should've been furious at the insults, but oddly, he wasn't. The imp hadn't cursed at him, yelled at him, or called him stupid, and in his mind that was probably a compliment. Or as close to one as he could get.

"Ugh! Are these _really _what are used as weapons in your world?"


End file.
